the shape of your eyes drives me crazy. you know, since i’ve been studying theoretical genetics i’ve been seeing people through the filter of their phenotype, trying to catch on the nature of their genotypes. why? to see how our babies would look like. ours would look gorgeous, and their eyes would have the same shape of yours.
you’re drawing. circles, triangles, numbers, you name. you draw hearts around his eyes. it doesn’t look very good, truthfully, and you’re getting sort of bored anyway.
Circles, squares, triangles, ellipses, cones, cylinders, pyramids. So many shapes, so many different types. Shapes can be calculated in terms of surface area, in terms of volume, but the comforting thing about shapes is that most times, when applied to objects, they don’t evolve when applied pressure to.
People are not the same. They are of different shapes, too. But unfortunately, people change. Especially when you apply some sort of pressure to them.
you are shaped by fire and wickedness into weapon. you are not a person. you will never be a person. you were once a person, but now you are not. there is no going back. you are a weapon in the shape of something safe. but you are a weapon and you mustn’t forget.
Am I in shape? What bikini best flatters your shape? What fruit shape are you? I’m in some kind of shape. I don’t know if I could do it, knowing the shape I’m in. SHAPE UP
A shape. THE shape. A circle, drawn into the mud, leaves scattered within its confines. Red, orange, yellow, and other various shades glinted in the moonlight streaming in through the treetops, and the shimmering light reflected off them, growing brighter and brighter until it shot straight up to the sky. Blinding.
The shape of the heart on my sleeve isn’t what it use to be. It use to be perfect with smooth edges and it gleamed like the sun. But not anymore. It’s become distorted because of you. Now it has jagged edges and its as sharp as the point of a Spanish Dagger. The gleam it use to have is now a foggy blur. All because of you. All because I let you talk me into doing what I swore I would never do. But I’m not going to let what happen eat away at the heart on my sleeve anymore, because I don’t want to have anything to do with you anymore. One day I will find a guy that loves me for I am. Not be ashamed of me for how I look. He will love me because I am the most bad ass girl there is, and I am the most bad ass girl you will ever meet. So go ahead keep you perfect little stick of a girlfriend. Because she isn’t even a quarter of what I am. You had your chance with me, but you chose you fucking ‘brother.’ And no matter how much I smile at you just know that it isn’t real. It’s hiding how much I truly despise you. Muah.
what is the shape of things to come? it cannot be tangible, like a cube. it is all circles in circles, shapes of the unknown. The angles formed in a cross-section of our minds. What, then, is the graph upon which they are all charted? what is the real world? just shapes in our minds?
What is the shape of the world? Round, isn’t it. That’s right, it’s a circle. Or a sphere to be more concise. And in every circular object, what goes around comes around.
And the shape of the time is warm, spiralling in life and health towards some happy end. And our heart together forms a wink, the wink of another eye, another eye which I have loved, have loved as much as the sun, the sun which today sinks so low, so low into the sea-blue-sea.
soft and round.
Women need angles.
I haven’t got any except on my nose (and my glasses which don’t count)
why isn’t soft and round ok? I feel ok most of the time.
I don’t look in the mirror most of the time, either.
pluck a patch of drying earth
from the cracked and dying ground.
spit into your palms, and in your hands,
swirl the earth around.
in the grooves of your fingerprints
beauty can take shape.
i like shapes. shapes can be very basic circles and squares to more complicated shapes like the human figure. my favorite thing is that you can make the more complicated shapes by playing connect the dots with the more basic shapes and make pretty pictures.
The globe of light wobbled between her palms, losing shape. With a puffing sigh she released the magic and watched it explode in a tiny waterfall of radiant sparkles. Her frustration pinched for a more satisfying explosion, but she shook her head and pushed off the floor.
“From the shape of things,” Detective Orphelin said to Cpl. Sheedy as they surveyed the crime scene. The interior of the house was painted green, the body had been sawn off at the kneecaps and black buckled shoes were attached to the stumps. Chocolate gold coins were strewn about the room and shamrocks were strewn about. “From the shape of things,” he repeated, “it looks like the murderer had a thing for Leprechauns.”
It’s funny this pops up, because my mind automatically goes to “in shape” and it comes at a time when I’m trying to get “in shape.” My weight has gotten to a point where I don’t like myself and it’s time to change. New diet, new exercise, new life. Graduation is fast approaching…
I like to make shapes into other objects. construction paper, snow, little balls of dough. it doesn’t really matter what, just as long as I am actively invovled with my awesome imagination.
The old man smiled, as the stone wheel in front of him slowly turned. A small, shapeless lump of clay atop the wheel quivered with potential, waiting to be unlocked. “What was this to become?” questioned the man. “A pot? No. A bowl? No. This feels like something all together different.” He shifted his weight off the small pedal under the table, and waited a moment as the spinning wheel slowly came to a halt. Then, with the kind of precision that comes only after long decades of practice, the man began. He pushed here, then pulled there. Soon enough, shapelessness would become…
he had no idea what the shape of the object was from here it looked like something round but he knew it wasnt. he knew that from another stance it would be something different, something more elegant. he just knew
Shapes are interesting. Whether square, round, triangle, whatever. Everything has a unique shape, not to be compared with any other. You can’t fit a round peg into a square hole. Shapes don’t need to be molded into other shapes; it just doesn’t work.
we shape our lives. we make choices everyday that completely mold not only our current situations but our future. To shape your world can go either way. You can shape it into something terrible, or shape it into something beautiful. The choice is yours.
shapes are funny. there’s so much to describe about them. you can look at them with artistic views, realistic views, mathematical views. but where did they come from? who knows. just sit back and look at them. its beautiful.
consuming my thoughts all day, when I should be thinking of other things, important things that I need to get done, it pops into my head and I obsess. Shapes, my shape, my figure, my body. the shape I see when I look at myself. I dissect the inadequacies, the intricacies of every fold and curve of a body that is foreign to me. a full, supple body, screaming sex and fertility, warmth and comfort. it overflows the mold of accepted beauty, too much of me, my shape belies my vices.
David Bowie was no fool when it came to the dark arts. Only one as skilled as he could travel the vast expanse of space and return to Earth with no harm to himself. Transformers were his favourite toy and he now he would change his shape like them. Shapes of all number of sides and corresponding holes fluttered in his mind, but he knew the one he wanted would have no corners, he would be a circle!
The shape of the glass was kind of weird, like nobody had ever touch it, not even for making it. The girl stared at that glass, endlessly & then suddenly… the glass exploted! She was shocked.
“See that street? On the left?” Bailey pointed out the car window. “You mean the one with the ‘Do Not Enter’ sign?” Rachel asked. “Yeah, that’s it. Turn left right there.” “But….” Rachel left the rest unsaid, shook her head, and turned. Red and blue lights began to flicker behind them. “Hey,” Bailey relaxed back against the seat and stretched out his legs. “It’s your first day at the Police Academy, and we were going to be late, but with this shortcut, we’re in pretty good shape.”
im out of shape.
ive lost it.
everything i put my effort into.
one fall
one missed landing.
and its over
i miss the ability
i used to have
from doing something
that demanded so much.
then just left me when i
fell short.
Her curves were the greatest of his desires. The shape of her face produced the greatest fantasies of his life, his future. He was of greater than he had been, simply because of the entirety that is her shape.
Shape? Like body shape? So cliche that in America that’s the first thing a collegiate woman thinks about when shape is thrown at her. All the things you hate about shape and yet all the things you say you don’t care about but really do. Yet I know I’ll never be a stick. That’s life. Not fat, not thin. Watching what I eat, or not, I stay the same. Why try? Stuck in the middle of a shape unknown. But sometimes the unknown is okay. Maybe
I love the shape of the clouds that we used to stare at for hours. Making out what animals they were. That was the best times I had with you, now they are all but memories to forget.
Shapes are interesting. Whether square, round, triangle, whatever. Everything has a unique shape, not to be compared with any other. You can’t fit a round peg into a square hole. Shapes don’t need to be molded into other shapes; it just doesn’t work.
Some people are in it, some people are out of it. All objects are at least one of these. They are infinite. You learn about them in kindergarten. There are many shapes in the word shape. Ape is in shape.
A shape can be anything at all. People are creating new shapes all the time. They may not have names, but they are anything that you create when drawing or anything. A shape is a beautiful new creation
Shape.. .
shape me right.
the shape of your eyes drives me crazy. you know, since i’ve been studying theoretical genetics i’ve been seeing people through the filter of their phenotype, trying to catch on the nature of their genotypes. why? to see how our babies would look like. ours would look gorgeous, and their eyes would have the same shape of yours.
you’re drawing. circles, triangles, numbers, you name. you draw hearts around his eyes. it doesn’t look very good, truthfully, and you’re getting sort of bored anyway.
Circles, squares, triangles, ellipses, cones, cylinders, pyramids. So many shapes, so many different types. Shapes can be calculated in terms of surface area, in terms of volume, but the comforting thing about shapes is that most times, when applied to objects, they don’t evolve when applied pressure to.
People are not the same. They are of different shapes, too. But unfortunately, people change. Especially when you apply some sort of pressure to them.
you are shaped by fire and wickedness into weapon. you are not a person. you will never be a person. you were once a person, but now you are not. there is no going back. you are a weapon in the shape of something safe. but you are a weapon and you mustn’t forget.
Am I in shape? What bikini best flatters your shape? What fruit shape are you? I’m in some kind of shape. I don’t know if I could do it, knowing the shape I’m in. SHAPE UP
A shape. THE shape. A circle, drawn into the mud, leaves scattered within its confines. Red, orange, yellow, and other various shades glinted in the moonlight streaming in through the treetops, and the shimmering light reflected off them, growing brighter and brighter until it shot straight up to the sky. Blinding.
The shape of the heart on my sleeve isn’t what it use to be. It use to be perfect with smooth edges and it gleamed like the sun. But not anymore. It’s become distorted because of you. Now it has jagged edges and its as sharp as the point of a Spanish Dagger. The gleam it use to have is now a foggy blur. All because of you. All because I let you talk me into doing what I swore I would never do. But I’m not going to let what happen eat away at the heart on my sleeve anymore, because I don’t want to have anything to do with you anymore. One day I will find a guy that loves me for I am. Not be ashamed of me for how I look. He will love me because I am the most bad ass girl there is, and I am the most bad ass girl you will ever meet. So go ahead keep you perfect little stick of a girlfriend. Because she isn’t even a quarter of what I am. You had your chance with me, but you chose you fucking ‘brother.’ And no matter how much I smile at you just know that it isn’t real. It’s hiding how much I truly despise you. Muah.
A fine thing to be someone, which nobody really is. We are a funny assortment of uniquities altogether unfitting to our forms for oneanother.
what is the shape of things to come? it cannot be tangible, like a cube. it is all circles in circles, shapes of the unknown. The angles formed in a cross-section of our minds. What, then, is the graph upon which they are all charted? what is the real world? just shapes in our minds?
What is the shape of the world? Round, isn’t it. That’s right, it’s a circle. Or a sphere to be more concise. And in every circular object, what goes around comes around.
And the shape of the time is warm, spiralling in life and health towards some happy end. And our heart together forms a wink, the wink of another eye, another eye which I have loved, have loved as much as the sun, the sun which today sinks so low, so low into the sea-blue-sea.
soft and round.
Women need angles.
I haven’t got any except on my nose (and my glasses which don’t count)
why isn’t soft and round ok? I feel ok most of the time.
I don’t look in the mirror most of the time, either.
pluck a patch of drying earth
from the cracked and dying ground.
spit into your palms, and in your hands,
swirl the earth around.
in the grooves of your fingerprints
beauty can take shape.
i like shapes. shapes can be very basic circles and squares to more complicated shapes like the human figure. my favorite thing is that you can make the more complicated shapes by playing connect the dots with the more basic shapes and make pretty pictures.
I’m in shape!
(My shape just happens to be round.)
The globe of light wobbled between her palms, losing shape. With a puffing sigh she released the magic and watched it explode in a tiny waterfall of radiant sparkles. Her frustration pinched for a more satisfying explosion, but she shook her head and pushed off the floor.
“From the shape of things,” Detective Orphelin said to Cpl. Sheedy as they surveyed the crime scene. The interior of the house was painted green, the body had been sawn off at the kneecaps and black buckled shoes were attached to the stumps. Chocolate gold coins were strewn about the room and shamrocks were strewn about. “From the shape of things,” he repeated, “it looks like the murderer had a thing for Leprechauns.”
It’s funny this pops up, because my mind automatically goes to “in shape” and it comes at a time when I’m trying to get “in shape.” My weight has gotten to a point where I don’t like myself and it’s time to change. New diet, new exercise, new life. Graduation is fast approaching…
I like to make shapes into other objects. construction paper, snow, little balls of dough. it doesn’t really matter what, just as long as I am actively invovled with my awesome imagination.
Shape is color, shape is texture, shape is having a home for your spirit. Shape is the presence of ones self.
The old man smiled, as the stone wheel in front of him slowly turned. A small, shapeless lump of clay atop the wheel quivered with potential, waiting to be unlocked. “What was this to become?” questioned the man. “A pot? No. A bowl? No. This feels like something all together different.” He shifted his weight off the small pedal under the table, and waited a moment as the spinning wheel slowly came to a halt. Then, with the kind of precision that comes only after long decades of practice, the man began. He pushed here, then pulled there. Soon enough, shapelessness would become…
he had no idea what the shape of the object was from here it looked like something round but he knew it wasnt. he knew that from another stance it would be something different, something more elegant. he just knew
Shapes are interesting. Whether square, round, triangle, whatever. Everything has a unique shape, not to be compared with any other. You can’t fit a round peg into a square hole. Shapes don’t need to be molded into other shapes; it just doesn’t work.
we shape our lives. we make choices everyday that completely mold not only our current situations but our future. To shape your world can go either way. You can shape it into something terrible, or shape it into something beautiful. The choice is yours.
Hands clasped. Not with someone else. Just mine. Making a shape of a heart to symbolize us. Or is it a potato? Potato love.
shapes are funny. there’s so much to describe about them. you can look at them with artistic views, realistic views, mathematical views. but where did they come from? who knows. just sit back and look at them. its beautiful.
consuming my thoughts all day, when I should be thinking of other things, important things that I need to get done, it pops into my head and I obsess. Shapes, my shape, my figure, my body. the shape I see when I look at myself. I dissect the inadequacies, the intricacies of every fold and curve of a body that is foreign to me. a full, supple body, screaming sex and fertility, warmth and comfort. it overflows the mold of accepted beauty, too much of me, my shape belies my vices.
I love the shapes the rain makes on the glass window. Drops run into each other and make rivers. Make pictures. Make love.
David Bowie was no fool when it came to the dark arts. Only one as skilled as he could travel the vast expanse of space and return to Earth with no harm to himself. Transformers were his favourite toy and he now he would change his shape like them. Shapes of all number of sides and corresponding holes fluttered in his mind, but he knew the one he wanted would have no corners, he would be a circle!
The shape of the glass was kind of weird, like nobody had ever touch it, not even for making it. The girl stared at that glass, endlessly & then suddenly… the glass exploted! She was shocked.
“See that street? On the left?” Bailey pointed out the car window. “You mean the one with the ‘Do Not Enter’ sign?” Rachel asked. “Yeah, that’s it. Turn left right there.” “But….” Rachel left the rest unsaid, shook her head, and turned. Red and blue lights began to flicker behind them. “Hey,” Bailey relaxed back against the seat and stretched out his legs. “It’s your first day at the Police Academy, and we were going to be late, but with this shortcut, we’re in pretty good shape.”
im out of shape.
ive lost it.
everything i put my effort into.
one fall
one missed landing.
and its over
i miss the ability
i used to have
from doing something
that demanded so much.
then just left me when i
fell short.
Her curves were the greatest of his desires. The shape of her face produced the greatest fantasies of his life, his future. He was of greater than he had been, simply because of the entirety that is her shape.
round sphere square triangle curves point cube hexagon pentagon lines circle
Shape? Like body shape? So cliche that in America that’s the first thing a collegiate woman thinks about when shape is thrown at her. All the things you hate about shape and yet all the things you say you don’t care about but really do. Yet I know I’ll never be a stick. That’s life. Not fat, not thin. Watching what I eat, or not, I stay the same. Why try? Stuck in the middle of a shape unknown. But sometimes the unknown is okay. Maybe
I love the shape of the clouds that we used to stare at for hours. Making out what animals they were. That was the best times I had with you, now they are all but memories to forget.
Shapes are interesting. Whether square, round, triangle, whatever. Everything has a unique shape, not to be compared with any other. You can’t fit a round peg into a square hole. Shapes don’t need to be molded into other shapes; it just doesn’t work.
Some people are in it, some people are out of it. All objects are at least one of these. They are infinite. You learn about them in kindergarten. There are many shapes in the word shape. Ape is in shape.
A shape can be anything at all. People are creating new shapes all the time. They may not have names, but they are anything that you create when drawing or anything. A shape is a beautiful new creation